


Dichromatism

by AkiraMokona



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkiraMokona/pseuds/AkiraMokona
Summary: It was a game of chess. White Spell against Black Spell.You were tasked with obtaining checkmate, to take the king.But then your colour started to fade.Byakuran x Reader
Relationships: Byakuran/Reader, Byakuran/you
Kudos: 5





	1. Glicine

When you were approached, you were in between assignments. In the eyes of most, you were more of a hired gun that an actual part of the Millefiore. Those who had that opinion were partially right; the Giglio Nero had paid you to perform several different tasks, most of which included in the assigned target ending up dead in one way or another. However, just before the Millefiore was created, you had begun to work exclusively for the Giglio Nero. For all intents and purposes, you were a part of Black Spell. However, your constant traveling kept you at a distance from all of the politics. You knew there was tension between Black Spell and White Spell, but you had never seen it for yourself.

You had been sitting alone at a table in a crowded café. Your latest target had undergone the misfortune of drowning due to ingesting certain medications that had quite powerful sedative effects, then attempting to drive to work. Since he had been recently prescribed the medication by legal means, everyone thought that he had simply ignored the ‘do not operate heavy machinery’ label on the pill bottle and drove off of the bridge.

In the midst of finishing your drink, which you had regretted ordering due to the sudden drop in temperature, a man sat down across from you. You didn’t acknowledge him for a moment, your gaze focused on your cup as you set it down.

“You’re new?” You asked, voice low enough that no one else could hear.

The man shifted uncomfortably. You spared him a glance, discovering quite quickly that he was afraid. He had the same look in his eyes as so many people you had seen in the Giglio Nero; the fear of being close to someone who had a reputation solely based on killing. He was just a runner. He had never killed.

“Usually they send a letter,” You leaned back in your chair, “But since you didn’t, I’m assuming that the person you replaced met an untimely end.”

“Y-Yes, he-“

You waved off his explanation. If you weren’t responsible, you didn’t concern yourself with the details. You didn’t know the former messenger personally. You only knew that he had the courtesy to send letters instead of appearing in person, “On with it, then.”

“Th-This is a matter of utmost importance,” He began, “It’s imperative that you keep this confidential.”

“All of my work is confidential,” You countered, “What makes this different than any other time?”

“It’s about White Spell.”

You perked up a bit. You rarely spoke to anyone in White Spell. Given the tension and the fact that they never contacted you for anything, you assumed that they had no need of your services, “What about it?”

“They want you to investigate Byakuran.”

“Is this a joke?”

The man hesitated, “What do you mean-“

“Are you kidding me?” You crossed your arms, “You come here, risking my cover, and tell me that Black Spell wants White Spell investigated? No, this is some mess of politics that I’m not getting involved in.”

“Please!” He leaned forward, “If this continues, then Black Spell will be nothing but a husk. Surely you’ve heard the rumours. If Black Spell dies out, White Spell won’t hire you and you’ll be out of a job. They asked for you specifically.”

You stared at him for a moment. You didn’t need to discuss payment. You knew that, with something so important that they would involve you with the leader of the Millefiore, things were getting serious, “What do they want me to do?”

“Get close to Byakuran, gain his trust and-”

“I don’t do that,” You shook your head, “I don’t know what cheap summary they gave you of my work, but I don’t play that game. If it doesn’t end up in him dying before he knows my name, then I don’t do it. Getting close to someone isn’t in my job description. If you want someone to get close to him, then you get one of those darling honeypot specialists.”

“They’ll pay you whatever you want. They know it’s outside of your usual expertise.”

“Why me, then? Why not the ones that can actually be nice to people for more than five seconds? Hell, I haven’t even been nice to you for one second yet.”

“If the need arises, you have permission to kill him after you’ve found the information that you need. Killing the leader of the Millefiore will have people from around the world clamoring to hire you.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. The sweet-talkers still kill people.”

“Byakuran has…certain tastes. There has already been some reconnaissance, and you’re high on his list for transfers.”

“I’m expected to transfer to White Spell?”

“Once the job is done, White Spell will be gone and you’ll automatically be back to the Giglio Nero.”

You exhaled, watching customers from another table pay their bill, “What would I do in White Spell?”

“I don’t know. He would be the one to assign you a position.”

“That’s lovely,” You replied sarcastically. If looks could kill, the man before you would have been six feet under since he sat down. But, as he failed to impress you, you were leaning more towards weights being tied to his ankles before throwing him into the ocean, “So I’m going into this blind.”

“Since he has an interest in you, he’ll want to keep you close. A higher position, one directly involved in his operations.”

“Either his legitimate operations or something he’d be paying me extra to do,” You pulled out some money, paying for your drink before getting up to leave.

Unfortunately, the man followed you, “With the current rumours, he’s getting ready to kill every powerful person involved with Black Spell. That includes you. If you switch sides before that happens and gain his trust, you’ll be exempt from that.”

You stopped, turning to look at him. You smirked, “You’re not supposed to say something like that.”

“It’s the biggest reason for you to agree to the terms,” He explained, becoming a bit more confident, “In the worst case scenario, you’ll still come out on top.”

“Oh, don’t do that,” You tilted your head to one side, “You’ll give me ideas.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“I accept your terms. Now, you have five seconds to leave before one of us ends up knocked out in that dumpster.”

He quickly muttered his apologies before crossing the street, heading off in another direction.

“Hmm~?” Byakuran pressed his fingertips into the marshmallow that he was holding, seeing how far he could press into it before leaving a mark, “There’s someone from Black Spell who wants to transfer to White Spell?”

“Yes, sir,” The young woman set a picture on his desk; a woman sitting across from a man at a café, “She works as an assassin. She was hired first rather than brought into the Giglio Nero formally, but she has quite a standing.”

“I remember her from when I did research into Black Spell members. She’s quite beautiful. She spends so much time going after other people, I wonder how she’ll react when someone goes after her~” He pressed into the marshmallow, flattening it before popping it into his mouth. His gaze flickered to the woman in front of him, “Did she give a reason for transferring?”

“She wanted more opportunities. With the Black Spell leader being so young, it’s hard for her to find work. The only reasons she continues working for them is for the pay. She’s quite young, to be such a skilled assassin. She doesn’t like to spend her time waiting for the next job. She wants a more consistent workflow.”

“Ah, she wants more excitement,” He traced his fingertips over the photo, smiling to himself, “I think I can provide that for her~"


	2. Dente de Leone

The temptation to leave was growing.

After successfully transferring to White Spell, you had been called to speak personally to Byakuran. You already didn’t like the direction this assignment was heading. You were used to a distance between you and your target. But now, they expected you to meet him. Why they thought that you were well-equipped for a job primarily involving seduction, you would never understand.

You pulled at the sleeve of your uniform, already missing your usual clothes. Since you were in Black Spell’s peripheral, you never had to wear their uniform. However, Byakuran had insisted that you were given a uniform on your first day. The woman who had given you the set of clothes explained that he didn’t want you to feel ostracized. You had fought the urge to roll your eyes at how he was helping you blend in, despite your real intention being to sneak in and get information.

As you lifted your hand to knock on the door, you found yourself hesitating. It was strange, you hadn’t felt that pause in years, ever since you took your first life. Your reluctance scared you; it was foreign to you. You were so used to simply orchestrating a kill, but the very idea of carefully designing a conversation to gain trust and invite sexual tension was worrying. You had no practice in those matters, at least for business. Your job description had always been so strict.

You shook your head, finally knocking on the door.

“Come in~” A voice called from within the room. It was casual tone, something you didn’t expect from the leader of Millefiore. Then again, you had seen more questionable people in positions of high power.

You opened the door, noting the desk and the windows spanning the entire wall.

“You must be _____,” The man you assumed was Byakuran sat behind the desk, his cheek resting on his knuckles. He had various bags littering the desk. As you approached, you realized that they were bags of marshmallows. You resisted the urge to scowl at his antics, maintaining an expression of professionalism, “I heard you used to work for Black Spell.”

“I was a mercenary. I didn’t really have ties to the Giglio Nero.”

“Why change, then?” There was something in the way he stared at you. A gleam of malice that made you tense. You shouldn’t have taken the job, there were better options, other targets to take care of properly.

“Work is work,” You replied, voice level, “Black Spell didn’t have enough assignments for me, but I heard that White Spell would have more opportunities.”

His gaze shifted towards the marshmallows, taking one of them into his hand. It relieved you. Despite his appearance, you could tell that he was powerful. His idleness, the lack of fear he held for you, was setting off alarms in your mind. He obviously didn’t trust you, he wasn’t an idiot. He knew you killed people for a living, and yet he wasn’t intimidated in the slightest. He knew, you both knew, that if you tried to kill him, he would win. The only way you would be able to kill him would be getting so close to him that you slip him something. No, he would see that coming. He would somehow sense it and ask you to drink it. In the ice, then. You would drink yours quickly, then leave him to die as the ice and poison trickled into liquid. The final option was to sleep with him, to gain his trust to an extent that he was willing to shed all armor and security to be with you. But you doubted you could put yourself into that situation, considering he was perfectly capable of deciphering your intentions and carefully pulling the strings to make you vulnerable enough to kill.

“Come here,” He beckoned you with a lithe finger, his eyes on you once more.

You approached the desk. Byakuran tilted his head to one side, indicating that he wasn’t satisfied. You made your way around the desk, stopping at the corner.

He got up fluidly from his chair, a single stride getting him within arm’s length. Then, a smaller step to close that distance. Your body stiffened, your mind caging the instinct to grab him by the neck and throw him into the desk. If you could mask your inclination to kill him, then pretending to be interested in him as more than just a target would be simple.

His hand moved to your back, fingertips working their way up your spine. You leaned into his touch, but you had to look away from him. You could just play it off as being shy.

Byakuran was clearly annoyed by your looking away. He grabbed your hair in a tight grip, keeping you from turning your head. Your gaze returned to him, and his hand relaxed, though it didn’t completely leave.

“I want you to do something for me, Miss _____~” He replied cheerfully, ignoring his actions, “To prove your loyalty to White Spell.”

“I’m already loyal to the Millefiore,” You reasoned, not intimidated by the malice returning to his face, “I work for the Giglio Nero, I stayed when they merged with the Gesso.”

He hummed in response, reaching up to your face. His fingertips pressed to your lower lip, gliding back and forth across, “To prove your loyalty to me, then,” His hand shifted, cupping your cheek. Byakuran’s focus had drifted to your mouth.

“…What would you have me do?”

“I want you to kill someone from Black Spell,” His playful grin created a harsh dissonance with his sharp tone. His hand left your face, grabbing a small photo from the desk. You didn’t look away, but you could feel the corner of the photo paper below your ear. It inched lower, ever so slowly, across your neck.

As it approached vital areas, ones that would have you bleeding out in seconds, you grabbed his wrist and pulled the photo away.

You didn’t let go at first. You refused to let go. You didn’t know how he was going to react, and you couldn’t let him have a free hand to use if he decided he didn’t need you in White Spell. Finally, he reacted, releasing you completely. His wrist was still held out as he took a step back. You hesitated, then withdrew from him.

Byakuran smiled, “I was wondering how far you would let me go. You’ve spent so much time killing, you don’t like having someone so close~”

He held out the photo, which you took quickly, sparing a glance to it before returning your attention to Byakuran.

“When you come back, after you’ve done your job, we’ll see how much farther we can get,” He turned his back to you, a fatal mistake in front of an assassin. You ached to kill him, knowing it would be easier than anything he would offer you, but resisted that temptation, “You’re dismissed~”

You bowed, then walked over to the door.

“Ah, wait, I almost forgot something.”

You stopped, hand an inch from the doorknob. You exhaled slowly, then turned to look at him.

“You’re not required to wear that White Spell uniform all of the time,” He squished a marshmallow between two fingers, “You’re only required to wear it when you come to see me,” He once again pinned you under his lilac gaze, “Do you know why that is?”

You took a moment to think, then shook your head.

He smiled again, “I know what you’re capable of killing. The way that uniform fits you means that you’re unable to conceal a weapon. I wasn’t sure if you were used to bringing one, which is why I checked your back~”

You watched him, wondering if he knew. Sending someone so skilled, even if they weren’t involved in the political mess of the Millefiore, was bound to raise some red flags from his position. You shook your head, “I only bring weapons when I’ve been assigned to kill someone. I see no reason to bring weapons to your base of operations. Your security is more than enough.”

“Hn,” He ate the marshmallow, “You’re free to go, that’s all I wanted to say~”

You nodded, leaving the room.

You found a bathroom, changing out of the White Spell uniform. Byakuran was right; there was no way you would be able to have a weapon on your person without it being obvious. Once you put on your usual clothes, you traced over where Byakuran had used the photo. It was just a piece of paper, you knew that. But it was the man who was holding it that scared you. He was what would kill you. You had encountered powerful people before. You had killed them. But there had always been a distance. It was that closeness that gave you pause, his skin against yours that made you worry. You feared cracking under the pressure, revealing something that would give away your intentions, your true mission. You couldn’t lie to someone like him. He could see the truth like he saw black and white. A lie would be easily distinguished, a blot of dark ink against white paper.

Even if you could get the necessary information, you were sure that he would get something from you in exchange.


End file.
